Move On, Move Along, Move Away
by VladdieChica
Summary: Whitney reflects.


**First Unnatural history fic, but I really like this. From the episode Sleeper in a Box. And yes, I know the rocket was both Jasper's **_**and **_**Maggie's, but let's say, for the sake of the story flow, Whitney doesn't know that.**

**Rated T because the letter T is cooler than K.**

**No pairing, though if you **_**seriously **_**(and I mean SERIOUSLY) squint there is a TINY hint of Whitney/Henry. In two sentences. Towards the very end.**

**I PROCLAIM THE SHIP NAME AS WHITREY! **

**I really should be updated my other fic, but the evil plot bunnies...well, you know how they are. plus dramatic KC action on Degrassi. Can't miss that. KC and Eli drama is irristible. i mean, KC's a hot dangerous ex-criminal bad boy who lost his true love! and _ELI,_ OH MY _GOD,_ a mix of Ellie and JT put into 1 extremely hot character destined to (well, unless he dies like everyone thinks he does) NOT end up like Ellie and JT (ex-suicidal cutter chick who lost her soul mate to the girl he cheated on her with years before; stabbed to death while trying to tell his soul mate he still loves her and wants her back, respectively)**

**wow, now that i read that i realized how ridiculous that show is.**

**and that this is an Unnatural History fic, dummy (me, not you).**

**and i just gave away major stuff from the earlier seasons of Degrassi.**

**WHOOPS!**

**DICLAIMER: ME NO OWN. YOU NO SUE.**

**Please review.**

I'm jogging.

I went running every morning; a routine I started after my dad died. It was nice, running until I was bone tired, heart hammering, breathing in the crisp, cold air. At five in the morning, the park was pretty much deserted. It gave me peace, however temporary, to feel alone in the world. Such a contrast to my normal life. At school, I was in so many clubs and organizations it was hard to keep track of them all. At home, there were my three younger sisters running around, sneaking into my room, and annoying me to my breaking point. It was my duty to take care of them because my mother worked so hard to support us.

My duty.

That's what Alek and Rurik had told me when they cornered me in the park. A different park, in Washington D.C.

I was prepared for muggers or kidnappers, but not that. Nothing could prepare me for Russian mafia men blackmailing me into helping them recover (a.k.a. steal) a piece of military intelligence equipment (from my _classmates_, who were 2 years _younger_ than me) that had supposedly crashed back to earth over fifty years ago. I would have laughed at the pure absurdity of it had they not shown me their evidence of my father's double life (not to mention their guns). If they could get something that secret and classified, they were serious, dangerous, and wouldn't lose any sleep over killing 3 little girls. Or me, for that matter.

Needless to say, I was scared. And when you're concerned for the safety of your family, you'll do anything to protect them. Even if it means throwing your life away. I knew once I got involved with the mafia, there was no getting out. "You do this, and we forget about you and your family. Just this one little thing, girl." Yeah, and my father was an insurance salesman. But Marie, Alisa, and Anna would live their lives; safe and oblivious. They were too young to understand. They didn't even know anything about what daddy does for a living.

_Did_. What he _did_ for a living. My dad was dead.

The police reports said it was an induction murder; boys who want in a gang kill someone at random, instead of getting jumped in. But Mom and I knew better. It was my father's old enemies getting their revenge. But we couldn't tell anyone that. On the off chance anyone believed us, they would put Mom in prison and interrogate us for information. Getting off with deportation was a dream.

So, I did what I had to do. I was sure I was going to die in the long run. What was worse; there was nothing I could do to change that. I had to work with them; refusing would just be buying my family a death sentence. With the violence and shady dealings of the mafia, I die within the next five years. That is, if I didn't end up dead trying to get Sputnik. Also, I was sure Alek and Rurik had a plan in case I looked like I would talk after I helped them: they were going to shoot me; probably make it look like a random murder. But I hoped that if I did my part and did everything they wanted from me, my family would be left alone. And that was all that mattered. No matter how annoying my sisters were, or how tired I got of taking care of everybody, I was raised to believe family came before everything. Maybe it was a Russian thing, or maybe it was just me. I was going to die for my family, and I had accepted that. Even when Henry, Jasper, and Maggie tried to get me out of it, I knew I was going to die.

Death was always an abstract, impossible phenomenon to me. When you're young, you never think of death, and certainly not an early one. After I became involved with Sputnik, death became more solid, concrete, and definite than anyone would ever want it to be. Oddly enough, knowing I was going to die brought on a kind of inner peace and acceptance of the world. I slowed down enough to smell the roses and appreciate the little things. Like stopping to laugh at a dirty joke in Russian on the school events board.

Henry, jasper and Maggie truly saved my life. Jasper bought me time by sending Sputnik into the sky on his rocket. Henry fought off Alek and Rurik. Maggie's influence saved my family from criminal charges and deportation. We got a new life because of them.

Which brings me to where I am now. Atlanta, Georgia, United States of America. Mom has a good (enough) job, the girls are enjoying summer vacation, and I'm getting ready for my first year at Cambridge University. I'm ready to move now. To move on from the drama back in D.C., to move along with my life, and to move to the United Kingdom. It'll be colder there than it is in Godforsaken Hotlanta. Probably not Russia-cold, but still better. I can start a life for myself there; completely separate myself from old sorrows. Getting rid of baggage. I'll never forget about what I went through. I'll never forget about my father, or jasper, or Maggie. And I most certainly will never forget about Henry Griffin. My hero, just to make it cliché.

No, I will never forget. I will think about it all every day of my life. But that's behind me. I'm free.

**I know, ending falls flat. I can usually cook up the perfect ending to oneshots (though this is the first one I've published). I don't know why this one was so hard. Maybe I'll come back to it one day.**

**YOU SHALL REVIEW THIS**


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